Sweet Caroline
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: There's a new Intel Analyst at NCIS and she's stolen the heart of one Timothy McGee. Can Tony and Ziva help him get the girl before he misses his chance completely?
1. Chapter 1

A sprinkle of snow fluttered outside the windows of the NCIS building. It wasn't a heavy snow and a person had to really look to see it, but it was a reminder to Washington D.C. and its inhabitants that the Christmas season was near. Twinkling lights were starting to pop up, Christmas tree lots were appearing on every street corner, stores were packed with shoppers, and people were beginning to belt out Christmas carols at the top of their lungs…

"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire!" Tony sang out as he stepped off the elevator. "Jack Frost nipping at your nose."

"Who is Jack Frost and why would you want him nipping at your nose?"

Tony dropped his bag by his desk. "It's a song, Ziva; a Christmas carol."

"That does not mean it makes sense."

"Isn't it a bit early for singing carols?" Tim asked. "Thanksgiving was only last Thursday."

"Don't you know the rules of Christmas, Probie? Once Thanksgiving is over a person has the right to start singing Christmas carols through New Years. What's your problem with Christmas carols, anyway? You anti-Christmas, Mr. Grinch?"

Tim rolled his eyes, but didn't justify the comment with a response. He'd learned long ago that some things just weren't worth arguing, especially with Tony. "So do you have plans for Christmas?" he asked.

The older man leaned back in his chair with a lascivious grin. "Hopefully I'll be keeping warm with the cute little blonde who just moved into my building. Swiss," he added, "with a pair of snow globes that I'd like to shake all night."

Ziva snorted. "Well, if I get your name in the office gift exchange I know what to get you. Shall I leave her under the tree for you; perhaps with a big, red bow?"

"_Just_ a bow. And maybe you could join her down there?" he suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Keep dreaming, Tony."

"You do realize you're basically giving him permission to have fantasies about you, right?"

"Keep out of it, McGrinch."

Tim scowled and began to reply…but something stopped him. Actually, it wasn't something, but, rather, some_one_. That 5'6", curvaceous someone was walking down the stairs with Director Vance and the two were talking animatedly about something. That particular someone was wearing a skirt that swished slightly around that same someone's knees in a tantalizing and hypnotic manner with every step that someone took. Tim found himself entranced by that very someone.

"Good morning," Vance greeted jovially. "Caroline, let me introduce you to our MCRT. This is Officer David, our Mossad liaison," he said, gesturing to Ziva, "and these are Agents DiNozzo and McGee. Agent Gibbs isn't here, but believe me you'll meet him eventually."

"New agent?" Tony asked, shooting the woman—Caroline, as Vance had called her—one of his trademark grins.

"This is Caroline Hart, our new Intel Analyst. I'm just showing her around."

Caroline gave the trio a small wave accompanied by a nervous grin. She had auburn, corkscrew curls that fell around her lightly freckled face and blue eyes that popped out at Tim as he looked at her. In his mind she was also surrounded by a bright halo, giving her a truly ethereal look.

"It is nice to meet you, Caroline," Ziva said with a nod.

"Hope to see you around," Tony added with a wink.

All eyes turned to Tim who was staring awestruck at her. "I…um…" he stammered, feeling his face grow hot in embarrassment. "I…yeah…hi…"

She cocked her head to the side with a perplexed grin. "Hi," she replied.

Tim looked down, mentally berating himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now she probably thinks he's a weirdo. Way to make a first impression there, McDoofus.

When he looked back up, Vance had led the new object of his affection—aka Caroline—off to introduce her to more of the employees, leaving Tim with Tony and Ziva; both of them were looking at him with interest.

"Get a little tongue-tied there, Mc….Mc…McGee?" Tony asked, mocking Tim's momentary stuttering. "Can't say I blame you; she's a cutie."

He gave his colleague a sharp look. "Shut up, Tony."

"What? I'm not going to go after her. She's all yours!"

"Tony…I…she…"

"Though you may want to get your mouth working again before you ask her out."

"Stop teasing him, Tony," Ziva admonished with a playful smirk. "McGee cannot help being attracted to her."

"I'm not attracted to her," he mumbled. In love was more like it. "Not that she isn't attractive…not that I was really paying attention or anything…"

"Mm," Tony replied, obviously unconvinced. "Are you in Egypt right now, McGee? 'Cause you're deep in de Nile."

"Well, today has certainly been productive for me," Ziva added. "Now I know what McGee wants under _his_ Christmas tree as well."

* * *

**AN:** This story was written for ozgeek during the NFA Community's Secret Santa Fic Exchange. It's already complete and I will post one chapter per day!


	2. Chapter 2

Though they worked in different sections of NCIS, it only took Tim a week to figure out Caroline's daily routine. She arrived each morning at 7:00 on the dot and would swing by the break room to grab a morning cup of coffee. From there she would head to work, out of sight from Tim's adoring eyes. At noon she left for lunch, either heading to the cafeteria with her bag lunch from home or heading to the café on the corner. On the one occasion that he'd followed her to the corner cafe, he'd seen her eating tomato soup and a sandwich while thumbing through that day's newspaper. In the NCIS cafeteria she seemed to opt for BLTs with no mayo and alternated between reading the paper and doing crossword puzzles. At the end of the day she would grab the bus back to her D.C. apartment, except on Friday when she joined her coworkers at the nearby bar for an end of the week drink. Tim too had been in attendance, though the Intel workers and the special agents had taken up different sections of the bar. He still noticed that she ordered a single mojito and nursed it all night.

Tim knew that what he was doing was creepy and borderline stalking (okay, so it _was_ stalking), but he couldn't help it. Caroline had that effect on him. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been so smitten with a woman. She was sweet, funny, gorgeous…and completely out of his league, at least in his mind.

"So have you guys planned the big day yet, Elf Lord? Are we going to hear wedding bells soon? Should I check out your registries at Target and Sears?"

He scowled at Tony. "Enough, DiNozzo."

The older agent looked at him incredulously. "Come on! Don't tell me you haven't asked her out yet!"

"I don't like to act as quickly as you do, Tony. I'm waiting for the right moment."

"Have you even _spoken_ to her, McStutter? I mean aside from the wonderful conversation the two of you had when we met her last week."

Tim's silence spoke volumes.

"That's pathetic, even for you."

"Shut up, Tony," he mumbled. "Forgive me for not being as suave and confident as you are. Did you ever think that maybe I don't want to humiliate myself in front of a co-worker, that I can't take rejection?"

"Rejection?" Tony echoed. He felt a twinge of pity for the younger agent. "McGee, I know I give you a hard time, but stop talking about yourself like you're The Elephant Man."

"I believe you compared me to him once."

"That doesn't count; you had a horrific case of poison ivy and anyone with a knowledge of classic films would have made the same comparison; well, either that or Lon Chaney's _Phantom of the Opera_. Now stop pouting and get your ass in gear before one of the other horny guys here snaps her up."

"Tony, can you just keep your nose out of it for once?"

"I'm just trying to help!" The other man defended. "And if you ask nicely, I'll help you snag a date with her."

Tim snorted. "I don't need your help to get a date, Tony."

"You just said yourself that you're nowhere near as suave and confident as I am, Probie, so I beg to differ," Tony replied with a smirk. "And this invaluable wisdom can be yours, if you just repeat after me: 'Anthony DiNozzo, superior man in every way, shape, and form, would you bestow upon me your vast knowledge of the fairer sex?'"

"Tony, I'm not asking you for advice," Tim insisted with annoyance. It was bad enough pining after a woman who didn't know he even existed (and if she did, she associated him with a terrible stuttering); to have Tony making it his business only made things worse. He hated to compare his love life to Tony's because he knew he'd never measure up to the older man in that area, though he'd never admit that. "Now why don't you mind your own business and I'll do the same."

The older agent held his hands up in defense. "Okay, okay, McGee! I'll just sit by and count down the minutes until you realize how much you need my advice." He took a seat at his own desk, giving his colleague a grin. "And when that time inevitably comes, I promise not to gloat too much."

"Tony, _if_ that day ever comes, I can assure you Armageddon will be close behind."

* * *

"Hi, Tim."

He looked up and found himself face-to-face with the very object of his affection who had pushed her way into his every thought. Caroline was standing there, leaning her chin on the partition situated to the right of his desk. A few of her curls fell across her face, given her a vixen-like appearance, a look that was further intensified by the fact that her full lips were twisted into a sly smile.

"Your name _is_ Tim, correct?" she asked when he didn't reply to her greeting.

"Um…yes…"

"Are you sure?" she asked in a teasing tone. "Because I've heard your friend refer to you by a couple of different names. McGeek? Probie? Elf Lord?" she listed. "I have to admit, I quite like that last one. It sounds like a sweet little pet name."

He blushed. "Tim is just fine, Caroline."

"So you _do_ know my name." She walked to the other side of the partition and perched herself on the edge of his desk. Her legs were pressed against his and he resisted the urge to touch them. Her perfume—a sweet, honey-like scent—wafted toward him, further intoxicating the already love-struck man. "I was beginning to wonder…Tim."

This couldn't really be happening…could it? Tim's heart rate was increasing with every breath he took and he could feel himself beginning to sweat in parts of his body he didn't even know existed. His stomach did flip-flops and he was almost certain his body was visibly trembling. He looked around and saw that no one else was there; they were all alone.

"I've seen you looking at me…watching me…"

"W-what?" he asked, trying, and failing, to feign ignorance. "What are you talking about?"

"You follow me to lunch," she told him matter-of-factly. "You followed me out to the bar last week."

"I only went because everyone was going…"

She didn't acknowledge his comment as she continued on. "Why, just yesterday you followed my bus in your car just to see where my home was."

"It was taking the same route I usually take." That was true to an extent; the bus took mostly the same route, but he continued to follow it a good mile out of his way.

"And what about when you hacked into my file to find out more about me? What little excuse do you have for that?"

He was silent, eyes cast downward in shame. "I'm sorry…I know I shouldn't have. It's just that…well…you're really beautiful and I wanted to find out more about you."

She leaned forward. "So why didn't you just ask me?"

"I was intimidated," he confessed. "I thought you'd just laugh at me."

"Oh, Timmy," she whispered with a pout, "how could you possibly think that?"

He closed his eyes, using his other senses to drink her in. Her scent…her sound…her touch…her touch? His eyes opened and sure enough her slender fingers were caressing his cheek. "Do you enjoy that, my little Elf Lord?"

Tim couldn't find the words to respond so he simply leaned into her touch instead. Her skin was so soft and he felt a purr building up in the back of his throat. Now he understood why kittens and puppies enjoyed being petted.

Caroline leaned in, placing her lips beside his ear. Her breath was warm and it made him shiver. "Is this what you wanted, Timmy? Am _I_ what you wanted?"

"Yes." His reply came out in a whisper.

"I'll give you everything you want," she told him. Her lips brushed against his earlobe. "I'll give it all to you. Just say the word…"

"Please," he begged. "Please…I need you…" He opened his eyes and found her blue eyes looking at him with adoration. "I think I love you."

Her smirk morphed into a sweet smile, the kind he'd grown accustomed to seeing from her. Those luscious lips parted as she began to respond.

The response came out in the form of a loud, annoying beeping that gave him a startled jolt. Her sweet face shot backwards into a gaping darkness that Tim was sure hadn't been there moments earlier. Suddenly, though, the darkness had surrounded him in a vast abyss and there was nothing but that maddening wail…

Tim shot up, breathing heavily. The alarm clock beside him continued to blare until he reached out a hand and slapped it off. He plopped his body back down onto the bed, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing his eyes. One may have thought that the dream he'd just had was a pleasurable one, but they'd be wrong. The dream only served to remind him that Caroline was completely oblivious to him, and what was worse was the fact that it was the same dream he'd been having for the few past nights. Per usual, his alarm clock went off right when it started to get good, so he'd wake up feeling unsatisfied and restless.

He kicked off the covers and sat on the side of his bed, feet flat on the floor. The bed was soaked with what he hoped was sweat. It most likely was considering that the perspiration was oozing from his pores at an alarming rate. He ran an arm across his forehead, removing the sheen of sweat that had been resting there.

"I can't keep doing this," he muttered as he shuffled off to the bathroom. He'd had crushes before, but this was just getting ridiculous and it was interfering with his sleep. In his state of yearning, Caroline always seemed to be on his mind. She wasn't even escapable in sleep. It was time to do something; something…drastic.

* * *

"So this is what Armageddon looks like, Probie?"

Tim glared ruefully at Tony as the older agent walked through his apartment door. "I thought you said you weren't going to gloat," he mumbled.

"I said I wasn't going to gloat too much. You can't expect me to respond to your groveling without a little gloating on my part."

"Can we just get this over with?"

Tony gave the apartment a look over. He'd been here a few times and each time it seemed to get geekier. New books, new electronics, new antiques; nothing that could possibly be considered hip or cool. There wasn't even a couch, which made seating arrangements for guests very tricky. Granted, that was a good way to get your date to the bed more quickly. Hm…maybe he should use that in his own place.

"Okay, Probie-san, so let's review the facts. You have the hots for one Caroline Hart, the pretty little Intel Analyst who recently joined out motley crew at NCIS. Thus far your only interaction with her has been a nonsensical stuttered greeting you exchanged with her upon meeting her. Suffice it to say, you haven't made the best impression."

"Yeah, we've established that," Tim said with a glower. "Now get to the advice."

"Well, I've written up a handy little pamphlet I like to call 'The Steps to Landing a Date' or 'Dating for Dummies.'" He handed Tim a spiral notepad and went down the line of steps listed. "The first step, of course, is letting the woman know that you exist. This does mean you will have to speak to her, preferably with as little stuttering as possible. Our next step is to find out her hobbies and interests so you can pick out gifts and plans dates that she will enjoy. If she's a movie buff, bring her down to the Old Town cinema—cheap tickets, great classic flicks, but crappy popcorn; if she's a heavy metal fan, take her to a Nine Inch Nails concert."

"I think I get the picture, Tony. What else?"

Tony referred back to his list. "Okay, the third step is to flaunt yourself like there is no tomorrow. Now, this will mean you'll have to take an honest look at yourself and figure out your strengths and weaknesses."

Tim considered this. "My brain is probably my greatest asset…"

"No, no, no, McGee," Tony said with exasperation. "A girl doesn't care about the brains so much. You need to look at your other strengths. You're a successful author who's got a hefty little nest egg and who drives a Porsche."

"Your point?"

"Dazzle her with that, McRomeo! Offer her a ride! Wine and dine her! Take her to the top of the Eiffel Tower!"

"I don't have _that _much money," Tim commented with a frown. The younger agent was a bit wary of the suggestion. He didn't like the idea of using money to attract someone. "You really think that's a good idea?" he asked. "I'd feel kind of fake doing that."

"Trust me, McGee."

"Famous last words," Tim muttered beneath his breath.

"What was that, Probie?"

"Nothing," he responded with a sigh. "So make existence known, learn about hobbies and interests, and flaunt money. What other pearls of wisdom have you got?"

"Ah, well we've come to my final and most important step. Actually, it's not really a step; more of an attitude."

"And what attitude would that be?"

Tony placed his hands firmly on Tim's shoulders and looked the younger man directly in the eye. "Confidence, Probie. You have got to believe that you are the studliest of all studs and that she would be crazy not to want you. Without confidence you don't stand a chance."

"Confidence," Tim repeated.

"You've gotta walk the walk as well as you can talk the talk. You've gotta keep your eye on the prize."

"Is that all, or do you have some more clichés to throw out at me?" He winced as Tony's hand made contact with his head. "Sorry. Is this all?"

"This is it, my McAmigo. Follow these steps and I can guarantee that by the time our office Christmas party rolls around she will be eating out of the palm of your hand."

"And if she isn't do I get my money back?"

"If she isn't it means you're doing it wrong, Probie. That, or you're a hopeless case."

Tim ignored a barb as he looked down at the list of steps. It was simple…_deceptively _simple. It wasn't so simple when you couldn't get your mouth to work when the woman in question was around. Her presence gave him an emotional overload and Tim wasn't the best when it came to emotions; they confused and sometimes frightened him. But with a list…well, a list was less emotional and more analytical. Analysis was much more Tim's style; take a problem, assess it, and figure out the best course of action. It left less up to chance and made plans based on facts rather than feelings. He was still nervous about going after Caroline, but this made it easier for him; it gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, this would all work out after all.

"Thanks, Tony," he said sincerely. "I owe you one."

"Actually, McGee, I'd say you owe me more than one, but I won't make you pay up just yet."


	3. Chapter 3

**Step One: Make Existence Known**

Tim glanced down at the notepad. The first step was underlined with a black sharpie and he intended to put it into effect very soon. It was now 6:58; any second, the elevator doors would open and Caroline would step off to swing by the break room for her morning cup of coffee. When she did, he would be waiting for her, prepared to make a better impression than his first one had been. He'd considered preparing and memorizing a speech, but ultimately decided against it; he didn't want it to sound too rehearsed. Instead, he'd spent the better part of the previous night planning a basic introduction.

The bell dinged and Tim straightened up. He was standing by Tony's desk, hoping he looked nonchalant. The last thing he wanted was to appear too eager. The doors opened and Caroline stepped off as Tim expected. He couldn't help but notice that she was wearing a beautiful white blouse that showed off her figure.

As she was about to walk past him, he took a step toward her. "Hi, you're Caroline, right?" he asked as he extended a hand. Unfortunately, he hadn't been paying enough attention to realize that Caroline was holding a cup of coffee in her hand. His extended hand inadvertently bumped the cup, causing Caroline to lose her grip on it. It was like time had slowed down, but he couldn't do anything to stop the inevitable catastrophe. He watched in horror as the cup tipped toward his crush and the brown liquid spilled out on to the previously crisp, white blouse. It stained the top and dribbled down it, leaving tiny trails of brown.

"Oh…oh, geez!" he stammered. "Oh, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to do that!" Coffee? he wondered. How had that happened? She always got her coffee in the break room! At least, she had always gotten it in the time he'd known her, which, admittedly, wasn't very long. That single cup of coffee had put a kink in his plans. He hadn't prepared for that variable. Obviously, that lack of thorough planning had been to his detriment. "You're not hurt are you? I'll pay for you to get that cleaned…or to buy a new one…" he added, seeing as the top was pretty much beyond help.

Caroline looked down at her coffee-stained blouse and dabbed at it with a hand. "It's okay," she said with a somewhat forced smile. "I got this cup a while ago, so it's not hot anymore. It was an accident; could have happened to anyone."

Could have, Tim mentally agreed, but it _had_ to happen to him. "I was just trying to introduce myself. Um…you're Caroline, right?"

She nodded as she extracted a tissue from her purse. "Yeah…and you are…" She looked up at him and studied him as though trying to place his face. "Oh, I know it…you're one of the field agents. Uh…Tony, right?"

He was slightly disheartened by the fact that he hadn't made enough of an impression on her for Caroline to even remember his name. Still, he smiled, saying, "You're close. It's actually Tim; Timothy McGee. But you can just call me Timothy…or Tim…whichever."

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, Timothy," she said (Tim internally reveled in how sweet his name sounded coming from her lips), "but I'd better get to the bathroom and clean up a bit."

"Oh," he replied, remembering that he had just ruined her top, "right. Sorry, again. Really, just send me the bill. I can afford it." He thought back to Tony's advice to dazzle her with his extra income. He still wasn't sold on the idea, but he figured it couldn't hurt to drop a hint. "I do some writing on the side. You may recognize me as Thom E. Gemcity, author of _Deep Six_ and _Rock Hollow_. They were on the bestseller list for quite a while and there's already talk of movie adaptations," he babbled, mentally telling himself to get to the point. "So trust me, I've got a good amount of expendable cash," he concluded with a wink, "so you name it, I'll pay for it."

In response, Caroline raised an eyebrow. "We'll see," she said vaguely. "Better get going. Nice to meet you, Tim!" she called out as she hastened toward the restroom. Tim frowned at how quickly she sprinted away from him. Granted, it probably had more to do with the insetting coffee stain than him, but he still had hoped she would have stayed a bit longer.

He looked down at the note pad and step one. He had definitely made his presence known, no question about it. Except now, instead of associating him with a horrible stutter, she'd associate him with spilling coffee on her. Either way, he came out looking like a complete dork. You _are_ a complete dork, he reminded himself disparagingly.

"Morning, Probie-san," Tony greeted, oblivious to his colleague's dower demeanor. "Have you accomplished Step One yet?"

"Oh, I accomplished it," he said sardonically. "I don't think she'll forget me anytime soon."

"Then why so glum, chum?"

"I spilled her coffee on her."

Tony peeked at Tim over the top of his sunglasses. "Come again, McGee."

With a deep sigh, Tim gave Tony the play-by-play of his meeting with Caroline. "I wasn't expecting her to have coffee! It was out of nowhere! I should have planned for it, though. Stupid, stupid," he muttered as his face fell into his hands.

"Oh, stop being so overdramatic, McGee," Tony chided with a roll of his eyes. "Yes, _I_ would have handled that better, but we're talking about you here, so it's not so much of a shock. Now she knows your name and if she does take you up on your offer to pay for the cleaning it'll give you another chance to talk to her."

"Yeah, that'll be a great conversation, I'm sure."

"Positive thinking here, Probie. Now, how far are you into Step Two?"

"Step Two for what?" Ziva asked as she entered the bullpen and shed her winter coat. December had arrived with a vengeance with wind chills hitting as low as 10 degrees that week.

"Step Two of my foolproof plan to land a date," Tony replied. "McGee begged me to help him get in good with the new Intel chick and, seeing as it's Christmas time and I'm all about charity, I agreed."

"I didn't _beg_ you," Tim mumbled.

Ziva raised her eyebrows in amusement. "McGee is taking dating advice from you?"

"Do I detect a hint of skepticism in your tone, Ziva?"

"It is not that I doubt your skills in getting dates, Tony, I just do not think that you are the best person to give McGee advice. The two of you are very different men and you have different tastes in women."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"My point is that the things that work on the women you like will not necessarily work on a woman McGee likes. We are all different."

Tony shook his head contrarily. "Sorry, Ziva, but I must disagree. While it's true that women are different, they are all the same in one respect: romance."

"Romance?"

"You heard me. Women want that fairy tale stuff, to have a macho man show off for them. They want the rose petals on the bed and the bubbling glasses of champagne as the music plays gently in the background. They want wild rides in fancy cars, dinner at overpriced restaurants, and trips to romantic European cities."

"I am a woman, Tony, and I do not want any of those things."

"Well, I'm talking about American women here."

"Not to interrupt, guys, but can we get back to me?" Tim asked. "In the two weeks that I've known Caroline, all I've succeeded in doing is spilling coffee on her."

"You spilled coffee on her?" Ziva asked as she tried not to smile. "Was that one of Tony's steps?"

"I'm trying to help him, Ziva, not sabotage him."

"Uh-huh, so what's the second step in your master plan?"

"Find out her hobbies and interests so you can pretend to have the same ones."

Ziva tilted her head to the side. "Actually, that is not such a bad idea, Tony. Not the pretending part, but obviously it is important to know the person in whom you are interested. So what do you know about her, McGee?"

Tim sat back and thought. The truth was, he knew very little about her interests. "She likes BLTs and mojitos."

"Lame, Probie."

"Well I'm sorry, Tony! I can't really find much about her without breaking into her place and going through her stuff, and, last I checked, that's illegal."

"Or you could talk to her," Ziva suggested. "Perhaps when there is no coffee nearby?"

"That's a negative," Tony intoned. "The Probie shouldn't bite off more than he can chew at the moment, and talking to her for an extended period of time may hurt him more than it helps him. Besides, we don't want her to know that he's interested in her just yet. Instead, try talking to her friends in Intel."

"No, no," Ziva disagreed, "that is what teenagers do. Besides, if he starts asking her friends, they will tell her that he is asking around so she'll know he is interested anyway."

As his colleagues argued over the best course of action, Tim slumped down in his seat. His personal business was quickly becoming the hot topic of the day. No doubt Abby, Ducky, and even Gibbs would soon put in their two cents worth.

"Guys, would you stop?" he groaned. They both looked at him as he rubbed the space between his eyebrows. "I appreciate your desires to help and I know you each have different ideas of how I should proceed, but for the time being, I'm going to have to listen to…Tony."

"Haha!" Tony proclaimed, throwing his hands up in triumph. "Tough break, Ziva."

The Mossad woman crossed her arms solemnly. "I only hope you know what you are getting yourself into, McGee."

"Well, you did make a good point, so I'm not going to be the one to talk to her Intel friends. Tony is."

"Uh, no, Probie, that's not in my contract. You do your own dirty work."

"You're the one who got yourself involved in my private life and now you are going to help me or I'll tell Ducky who _really_ super-glued that corpse to the autopsy table."

Tony narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "You drive a hard bargain, McHaggle. I suggest we get a third party to do it. Ziva?"

"Seeing as my advice is not appreciated, I am going to stay out of this."

"Well, Gibbs is out for obvious reasons, I don't think you want Abby of all people getting that involved in your current romantic entanglements, and I have a feeling Ducky won't want to play messenger. So who does that leave us with? We need someone unassuming and willing to help."

"Um, hey, guys," Jimmy greeted as he entered the bullpen, looking a bit flustered. "Have any of you seen a specimen jar with green goo in it?"

Across the way, Tim and Tony shared a look. They nodded


	4. Chapter 4

**Step Two: Hobbies and Interests**

"It's very simple, Jimmy. Just talk to some of the other Intel girls and find out what kinds of things Caroline Hart likes. Under no circumstances are you to tell them you want to know for McGee."

Jimmy looked back and forth between Tony and Tim. "Isn't this a bit high school, guys? Why don't you just ask her yourself?"

"Focus, Palmer! We're doing it this way. So are you in or are you out?"

"What do I get for helping you?"

"McGee will buy you lunch."

The M.E. assistant gave Tony a look. "You'll have to do better than that."

"Okay, how about this: help us, or we'll tell Abby about that time you practiced doing an autopsy on Bert."

"Poor hippo," Tim said, shaking his head. "Never quite farted the same way again."

The cornered man's eyes widened. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, Jimmy! McGee is a man in love and I, personally, would _love_ to see Abby chase you down, so yeah, actually, we would. Now are you in?"

He sighed. "Fine, fine! I'm in."

"Good! Just remember, if they ask why you want to know, mum's the word!"

"I won't say anything," he promised with a roll of his eyes. "Now do I need to cross my heart and hope to die, or do you trust me?"

They gave him sour looks. "Get out of here, you little autopsy gremlin!" Tony ordered with a jerk of his thumb.

"Think we can really trust him?" Tim asked in a low tone as he watched Jimmy walk off. He liked Jimmy enough and knew him to be a capable med student, but he wasn't sure that he was the best candidate for this task. Tact wasn't Jimmy's strong point.

"Unless you want to do the dirty deed yourself, Probie, he's all we've got."

"I cannot believe how childish you are both being," Ziva said without looking up from her work. "Even Jimmy thought so."

"What is childish about it? McGee's just trying to get a date."

"Most normal people get dates by simply asking the person to grab dinner or get a drink."

"You know nothing about romance, Ziva."

"I think I know more about it than you do, Tony," she said. "Despite what you see in movies, romance is not about candlelit dinners or rose-petal covered beds or lavish Paris hotel rooms that overlook the Seine. Those things are beautiful, but they mean nothing if there isn't real heart behind it." She looked at Tim and asked, "Why are you so desperate to have a date with her, McGee? What makes her different than any other woman here or anywhere?"

"She's gorgeous!" he gushed. "She's got that beautiful little smile and those freckles. And when she smiles her nose wrinkles in this really cute way. Even her voice is sweet! And she's an Intel Analyst, so she's obviously an intelligent woman. It's like nothing else really matters."

Ziva smiled as Tim went on about how he became so smitten with a woman he'd only known for a short period of time. It was evident that he was truly yearning for Caroline, he just couldn't figure out the best way to woo her. "So why don't you tell her that?" she asked when he had finished. "Those are the things that women want to hear. It does not matter if you are a bit shy or you stutter now and then. Some women even find that endearing. Rather than playing these childish games, simply ask her out."

"Don't listen to her, Probie. Just follow the plan and you'll be fine."

Ziva's words had already planted a seed of doubt in Tim's mind, making him question his tactics. He'd seen Tony work his charm on many a woman and walk away with her phone number at the very least. But Ziva was a woman and probably had a better idea of what truly interested the female gender. So whose advice did he trust?

He stood. "I need to get some coffee," he announced. Truthfully, he needed to think without hearing Tony and Ziva bickering about him.

"McGee," Ziva said before he left, "you do not have to follow my advice, but at least think about how _you_ want to handle this. I can see that you are truly taken with this woman and I would hate to see you lose your chance with her because you were not true to yourself."

Tim nodded to her as he walked off toward the break room.

Tony glared at Ziva. "Thanks for making McGee doubt me, Ziva."

"I was merely trying to help."

"By turning him off from my plan."

"Perhaps he needs to be turned off from it."

"Oh, yeah? Well I bet you twenty dollars that my plan works. Are you in?"

"I am not going to bet on this, Tony."

"Because you know you'd lose."

"No, because this is McGee's love life we are talking about and I do not think it is right to make bets on it."

"Thirty dollars."

"Tony, give it up."

"Fifty dollars."

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine, I'm in. I look forward to crushing you."

His eyebrows shot up. "What happened to 'it's not right to make bets on this' and all of that stuff?"

She shrugged with a mischievous grin. "I was just trying to get you to up the ante."

"Ziva David, you are diabolical," he said. "And I have never been prouder."

* * *

Jimmy swung by the bullpen that evening to give them a full report. He'd managed to start up a conversation with a couple of Caroline's co-workers while they were having lunch in the cafeteria.

"They said that she's originally from Indiana and just moved here recently. She's got a Bachelors degree in Computer Science and a Masters in Mathematical Analysis."

"So she's an egghead," Tony commented, giving Tim a nudge in the ribs. "So far so good. What else?"

"Her iPod's got an eclectic selection. Some Carole King, some Ramones, some Cowboy Mouth, some Beyonce. Really, a little bit of everything. She's a big fan of that show _House_, she loves that sushi place a few blocks over, and she's read every Harry Potter book."

"See, you two have got that much in common. Take her to one of those little convention things."

"They also said that she's been writing 'Mrs. Timothy McGee' in little hearts on her notebook."

Tim's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" he asked in such a high tone that his voice nearly cracked. Then he caught sight of Jimmy's bemused grin and he narrowed his eyes. "Very funny, Palmer."

"Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Is that all you found out, Jimmy?" Tony asked.

"That's it. They don't know much more about her than anyone else. I mean, she's only been here a couple of weeks."

"They didn't question why you were asking about her."

"They did, but I told them it was confidential."

Tony gave the young man a brotherly pat on the back. "Nice work, Palmer!"

"Yes," Ziva agreed. "Congratulations on not being too chicken to actually approach the women and talk to them. It is only too bad my teammates do not have such courage."

"No one invited you into this conversation, Ziva," Tony replied. "And I'm sure it would have been much different if Palmer had been the smitten one."

"Now do I have your word that Abby will never find out about…um…" Jimmy stammered, red in the face, "about you know what?"

"Who knows what?"

Jimmy turned to see Abby who, judging by her black wool coat, was on her way out. She had obviously heard him as she was looking at him suspiciously. "What are you talking about, Jimmy?"

"Oh…uh…I…" He looked frantically to Tony for help.

"Palmer was just saying he doesn't want you to find out that he used to have a major crush on you when he first started working here."

She smiled in relief. "Oh, I knew that, Jimmy. You were kind of obvious about it."

His face was red, but he nodded as he let out the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. "Yeah…yeah, that's it. Nothing else…"

"Smooth, Palmer," Tony whispered as Abby walked off happily.

"So what is next on your list," Ziva asked. "Does it involve actually speaking to her, or will you leave an anonymous note in her locker?"

Tony gave her a sour look. "Ziva, the last thing we need is for you to project your negative energy on us."

She rolled her eyes in response. "So what _is_ your next step?"

"Flaunting," he replied. "Lots and lots of flaunting."

"Beg pardon?"

"Showing off, Ziva. Now what I suggest you do is swing by the bus stop in your fancy Porsche and offer her a ride home. She'll see that you've got a great car and you'll get some alone time with her."

Ziva looked at Tim incredulously. "You are not seriously trying to attract her through your car, McGee. That is something Tony would do."

"Something I _have_ done, Ziva, and it's worked, so I know what I'm talking about."

"McGee, do not try to attract her with material things. If she only likes you for your car and the such, then it is a superficial relationship."

"There's nothing wrong with having a superficial relationship."

"No, if that's all you want. I think, though, that McGee wants something more substantial than that."

"Okay, you guys can stop talking about me like I'm not here," Tim intoned.

"So whose side are you going to choose here, Probie? Are you going to listen to your experienced, smooth-talking pal or are you going to put your faith in a foreign woman who doesn't even know what 'smooth-talking' means?"

Tim looked back and forth between them, knowing that going against either would have repercussions. From the corner of his eye he saw Caroline walking past toward the elevator. Her blouse still had a brown stain, but it seemed to have faded. She didn't even notice the trio as she passed, her head bobbing in time to the music coming from her iPod. The way her corkscrew curls bounced and swayed had Tim salivating all over again.

"Better hurry up," said Tony as he followed Tim's line of vision. Caroline had just stepped on the elevator and the doors were beginning to close. "If you want to get down to your car and swing by the bus stop before her bus arrives, you may want to put your butt in gear."

As if in a hypnotic state, Tim grabbed his things, jumped up and sprinted out. He didn't even bother to wait for the elevator; instead, he took the stairs two at a time while simultaneously pulling his keys from his pocket.

Tony watched the young agent run off with great delight. "Just to let you know, Ziva, I only accept payments in the form of cash."

"Do not count your eggs before they are laid, Tony. From where I sit, McGee still has not gotten a date."

"Mmm," he hummed smugly. "If you're so certain, why don't we up the ante? Say, seventy dollars?"

"_And_ the loser must do the winner's paperwork for a month," she added.

He held out a hand. "Deal."

She took his hand and shook it. "Deal."


	5. Chapter 5

**Step Three: When You Got It, Flaunt It**

Tim got to his car in record time and stopped for a couple of seconds to catch his breath. He wasn't sure if his heart was pounding because he had been running or because he was thinking about Caroline being in his car, her body only inches away from his. It was probably a combination of the two.

"Good thing I had this cleaned this weekend," he said to himself as he admired the waxy gleam of his Porsche. He could see his reflection in it. "Good thing I also got that Klingon phrasebook off the front seat yesterday," he added as he slid in. The last thing he needed was for her to peg him as a Trekkie…even if he was one. Tonight, he was the suave, cool, Porsche-driving Timothy McGee.

"Music," he hissed under his breath. What kind of music should he put on? He wanted something to set the mood but he wasn't sure if his usual mood music—the jazz that Tony had deemed "the soundtrack to a bad 70's porno"—was the best choice. In the list of musical genres Jimmy had listed as being on her iPod, jazz hadn't really been one of them. He didn't have anything by Carole King or Beyonce or The Ramones. "Thank you, Sarah!" he whispered in glee. His sister, in an effort to expose her brother to "better music than that garbage they force feed you on the radio and MTV" (her exact words to him, as though he could even name a show currently on MTV) had uploaded a few Cowboy Mouth songs to his iPod.

With the song "Love of My Life" blasting from his speakers (a very befitting song, he thought) and his very expensive Armani sunglasses perched atop his nose (superfluous and a bit silly, yes, but he was going for suave here) Tim was ready to go. He pulled out of the Navy Yard and drove down the street to where he knew Caroline's bus stop to be. The chilly air was now accompanied by fat snowflakes that fell heavily to the ground. Surely in this weather, Caroline would be grateful to be offered a ride in a warm car. With that in mind, Tim cranked up the heater just a notch more.

Only one figure sat on the bench at the desolate bus stop. Caroline had bundled herself up considerably since leaving the building. A long, red coat, a black and white knit scarf, black gloves, and a red snowcap had been added to her ensemble. As a result, the only parts of her body that were uncovered were her eyes, nose, ears, and a few rebellious curls. She held a book of crossword puzzles in her lap which she was using to occupy her time until the bus arrived.

He slowed down and pulled up alongside the stop. As he rolled down the window, Caroline looked up and peered into the car curiously. "Hey!" he greeted. "Can I give you a ride home?" When she continued to look blankly at him, he added, "It's the least I can do after practically scalding you with hot coffee this morning," to help her remember who he was.

"Oh," she said as recognition set in, "hi. Thank you, but I'll be okay."

His smile faltered. He hadn't expected that. "Are you sure?" he asked. "It's pretty cold out there. I'd hate to think of you freezing at some dark, isolated bus stop. Why don't you get in and I'll get you nice and warm. I could take you for a spin, just show you some of the D.C. sights."

"My bus should be here soon," she told him. "Trust me, there's no need to go out of your way."

"It's no problem," he insisted feebly. He already knew he'd lost. "I've got room and time to show you around the city."

She nodded to the traffic piling up behind his car. "That's my bus. You may want to move; the driver doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Sure enough, a boisterous honk from behind startled him. In the rearview mirror he saw the bus driver shaking his fist angrily at him. "Okay," he muttered, "I guess I'll just see you tomorrow."

"Be careful!" she called as he rolled up the window. "You really shouldn't drive at night with sunglasses on!"

As Tim drove off, his cheeks were as red as Caroline's, except his reddened cheeks weren't the result of the frigid night air. How could she have chosen a crowded and cold bus over the warm interior of a Porsche? Maybe she was a major conservationist who felt like she'd save energy and decrease exhaust fumes by using public transportation. But if that was the case, why didn't she simply ride a bike to work? She certainly lived close enough.

He tore his sunglasses off and tossed them onto the passenger seat, not caring if they broke in the process. Things were not working out the way they were supposed to. Maybe Ziva was right. Maybe Tony wasn't the guy for him to get dating advice from; not on this one, at least. Maybe he should just throw in the towel and give it up.

Caroline Hart, it seemed, was not to be his.

* * *

"What do you mean, 'throw in the towel'?" Tony asked the next day when Tim told him the bad news. "Do you know how much I've got riding on this?"

Tim looked at him suspiciously. "No…how much _do_ you have riding on this."

"My pride," the other man replied with a smooth save. "This is my plan you're talking about. If it fails you no one will want to pay money for it!"

"Tony, I don't think anyone would have paid money for it anyway."

"Regardless, Probie, you've come too far to give up now."

"She's not interested, Tony. If she was, don't you think she would have taken the warm confines of my car to the bus?"

"You're sure you asked her correctly?"

Tim gave him a look. "I didn't think there was right way and a wrong way to ask a girl if she wants a ride home."

"Well, you learn something new everyday. Now tell me what you said to her, word for word."

With an embarrassed groan, Tim did as he was told. "It was pretty straight forward. I said, 'Can I give you a ride home?'"

"And what did she say?"

He frowned. "Well, she didn't seem to remember me, so I added that it was the least I could do after spilling her coffee on her."

"Ah ha! Mistake one: you reminded her about your humiliating flub. Never ever remind a girl that you've done something stupid. So what happened next?"

"She declined my offer; said she was okay."

"And you persisted, I assume?"

Tim nodded. "I commented on how cold it was and told her I'd hate to think about her freezing out there. But she just said her bus would be there soon and she didn't want me going out of my way. And then her bus was there and the driver was honking at me, so I drove off."

"You gave up just like that?"

"Tony, you don't want to mess with an angry bus driver. Besides, I could have stayed there for three hours offering her a ride, but I don't think she was going to budge."

"See that's where confidence comes into play. You can't sound like a scared little chicken when you ask her out. You need to make her believe that she's missing out by not taking you up on your offer. And don't take no for an answer!"

The younger agent shook his head. "Look, I don't think this is for me. I'm just going to quit while I'm ahead."

"Quit?" Tony echoed with disgust. "Man up, Probie! You like the girl, don't you?" Tim nodded emphatically. "So get back in the ring!"

"Tony…"

The other man held up a hand to silent his junior agent. "Here, I'll give you a little demonstration of how I like to work my charms. You observe and then put it to work."

Tim was dubious, but really what did he have to lose? The worst that could happen was that Caroline would turn him down…again. "Fine," he conceded, "I'll trying anything."

Tony let out a breath of relief; he couldn't afford to have Tim back out on this now. "Okay," he said, scanning the squad room, "now to find a suitable candidate. No…no…no," he said as he looked over the various NCIS employees. His eyes landed on a young brunette who was walking down the stairs. A smile spread across his face. "Bingo!" he said to Tim before swaggering off. "Now watch, listen, and learn."

"Hello," he greeted with a sly grin. The girl looked up and, seeing him, smiled back.

"Hi."

"I don't think I've seen you around here much. Are you new?"

"Not new; I'm just usually holed up in the office. I work in the legal department." She held out a hand, saying, "I'm Lisa Sheridan."

"Anthony DiNozzo," he replied, taking her hand gently. "I hope it's not too forward of me to mention how smooth your skin is. How do you keep it so soft in this harsh, cold weather?"

Lisa gave a small giggle in response. "I see you're a charmer, Mr. DiNozzo."

"Guilty," he replied. "So what's a guy gotta do to get a pretty girl like you to go out to dinner?"

She ducked down her head shyly. "Don't you think we're moving a bit quickly here? We've only just met."

"Time waits for no man."

"I don't know," she said, smiling in spite of herself.

"Are you really telling me that you'd pass up a night with me?" he asked, somehow managing to not sound conceited. "I think you'd enjoy it."

"Well…"

"Are you playing hard to get?" he asked in a teasing tone, making the woman even more flushed. "C'mon, Lisa, don't make me beg. Because I will; I am not too proud to do a little begging." His words seemed to further amuse her. "I know this nice little Italian place where we can get a corner table and enjoy some of the best wine you've ever had. They've even got opera singers to entertain us, if that's your thing."

The young woman still looked uncertain.

"How about this: if you don't have a good time—and I am giving you my DiNozzo good time guarantee—then you can pick the place for our next date."

"I guess I could spare a night for dinner," she said as a blush crept into her cheeks. "I love a good glass of wine."

"Well then, m'lady, just tell me the day. I could pick you up at your place or just drive you there from here. Maybe we could head back to my place afterwards for dessert."

His suggestion didn't earn him a slap or even a glare. Instead, Lisa just nodded mutely as she tried not to smile too broadly. "It's a date, Mr. DiNozzo. Let's say tomorrow?"

Tony lifted her hand up and kissed the back of it. "I look forward to it, la mia bella." She practically melted on the spot. "Until then, I hope the glow of your sweet smile will keep me warm in this harsh winter."

The woman stood swooning as Tony swaggered back to where an impressed Tim stood. "See, Probie? Nothing to it. You just need to know that you've got it."

"Got what?"

"Got it."

"What's it?"

"You know…it! That special little something; that je ne sais quois."

"And how do I know that I've got it?"

Tony glared at him in frustration. "You just know. Now go get your girl!"

"I can't."

"McGee, I told you, yes you can! You just need to believe in yourself!"

"No, Tony, I mean I can't because—"

"Because we've got a dead Marine," Gibbs finished as he entered the bullpen with Ziva in tow. "Gear up."

"As soon as we get back, McGee," Tony began as he grabbed his weapon, "you are going to talk to her even if I have to tie you to your chair and deliver you to her myself."

"Are you saying you have a desire to tie McGee up, Tony?" Ziva asked slyly.

With Tim out of earshot, he leaned down and whispered. "Laugh now, Ziva. We'll see who laughs last when you're knee deep in my paper work." They passed Lisa on their way. Tony gave her a smile and wink before adding to Ziva, "And I've already decided how I'm going to spend your seventy dollars."


	6. Chapter 6

**Step Four: Confidence**

Caroline sat at a table near the far wall, eating her usual BLT and working another crossword puzzle. Tim stood off to the side, surreptitiously watching her from afar. Despite Tony's assurance that he could do this, he still felt nervous about approaching her. What if he did something stupid again, like knock her drink into her lap?

She took another bite of her sandwich and Tim noticed that a bit of mustard stained the side of her mouth; he wanted nothing more than to kiss it off. With a deep breath and a suppression of his fears, Tim strode to her table.

"Hey, Caroline," he greeted with as much confidence as he could muster. "Mind if I sit here?"

The woman looked up and Tim could immediately see that she wasn't pleased to him. "Sure," she said, her eyes betraying the fake cheeriness in her voice, "it's a free country."

He slid into the seat across from her and paused. What to do now? "So…uh…"

She kept her head down, focused on the puzzle, effectively ignoring him. It didn't make the situation any easier.

"So what's a guy gotta do to get a pretty girl like you to go out on a date?" he asked.

There was no reply.

Tim surged on. "Because I was thinking that you and I should go out tonight."

"Were you now?" she asked without looking up.

"Sure was. I thought that after work, I could drive you to this nice place in Old Town for some wine and dinner. Maybe we could have a little dessert later on, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I think I got it," she replied flatly.

Tim leaned down, trying to catch her eye. "See, I've noticed you around."

"I figured as much."

He continued, unfazed by her icy demeanor. "And I thought maybe you could use a night of fun. You know, to escape the monotony of work."

"Fun?" she asked, looking up at him finally. "And how do I know that dinner with you would be fun?"

"I give you my official guarantee," he told her with a wide grin. "If you don't enjoy yourself, then you can pick the place for our next date."

"I see," she said in an acerbic tone. "But if I don't enjoy myself, isn't it possible that the problem is you, not the place? That seems much more likely, especially if this place is as nice as you claim. So if I don't enjoy myself tonight, why would I bother with a second date? For that matter, why should I even bother with a first one?"

Tim was starting to sweat as his fears and self-doubts began to resurface. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. Why was this always so easy for Tony? "Hey, it'll be my treat. You can order the most expensive thing on the menu if you want and as much wine as you want. You'll get a good meal either way, so what have you got to lose?"

"My time, maybe? My life is too short to spend it with someone I don't particularly like."

He internally winced at her comment. But he couldn't give up; Tony told him not to take no for an answer. "Are you playing hard to get?" he asked in what he hoped was a teasing tone.

"No, Agent McGee, I am not. I'm not playing at all."

"Oh, so you're going to make me beg? Because I will; I'm not too proud to beg for a date from a gorgeous girl like yourself."

She rolled her eyes. "You could get down on your knees right now and plead until the end of time and it wouldn't do you a lick of good," she told him with a frown. "You'd still get the same response."

He felt himself floundering; he reverted back to the list of her interests Jimmy had given him. "Maybe after dinner we could go to my place and watch a few episodes of _House_. Or we could take in a, uh, concert? I think Beyonce's doing one in New York sometime soon."

Caroline stood and grabbed her things. "My lunch is over. I need to get back to work."

"Okay," he continued, following behind her, "so you don't want to go to dinner or anything, that's okay. I can get us into any club you want, though. I'm kind of a famous writer and—"

"I don't care!" Caroline snarled as she spun around to face him. "I really don't care how much money you've got or what clubs you can get into! For all the money and fame you've got you apparently can't seem to get it through your thick skull that I am not interested! So why don't you go to one of those clubs and find yourself a nice little superficial bimbo? I'm sure she'd be more your kind of girl than I am."

"Caroline…" he said softly as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged off his hand. "Don't," she ordered. "For someone who is supposedly a genius, you certainly are dense. Maybe in your smug little mind 'no' means 'yes,' but here in the real world, 'no' means 'no.'" She folded her arms as she glowered at him. "Now I know that must come as a huge blow to your even huger ego, but it's about time you learn that not every woman is going to swoon over you just because you've got money and a Porsche. Not all of us are so easily bought off. Got it?"

He nodded his head in shame. "Yes."

"Good. Glad to see something has finally stuck. Now please leave me alone. I don't want dinner, I don't want rides, and I don't want you to pay for my blouse. I just want to come to work without having to worry about being harassed by guys like you."

With that, she stormed off, leaving a very red-faced Tim in her wake. He felt a lump rise in his throat and it was difficult to breathe. He hadn't expected quite a passionate rejection and was still stunned by it, uncertain if it had actually happened or if it had just been a bad dream.

A few rapid blinks and a self-inflicted pinch indicated that it was not a dream.

He'd had girls turn down date offers before, but never so harshly and never from a woman he was as attracted to as he was Caroline. If ever he'd had a dream girl, it was her. Now that dream girl had morphed into a nightmare. And why? What had he done to offend her so much?

* * *

"Hey, Probie Juan," Tony greeted, "how'd it go?"

Tim sat in his seat, forcing the lump in his throat back down. "Tony," he said in an even tone, "don't ever offer me dating advice again."

"She turned you down?" Tony asked, furrowing his brow. How could that be? It was a foolproof plan.

"And then some."

"Did you do it like I showed you?"

"Tony, I practically recited what you said verbatim. She, in turn, handed my ass to me." He hung his head in his hands, running his shaky fingers through his hair. "She hates me."

His two co-workers--the same co-workers who had gambled on his ability to land a date with Caroline--shared concerned glances. "McGee," Tony said with genuine remorse, "I'm sorry." This wasn't about a stupid bet or pride anymore. Tim obviously cared deeply for this woman and now he'd blown his chances. "I'm really, really, sorry."

Tim looked up at Tony and offered a small, humorless laugh. "Wow, I must look pretty pathetic right now."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're being really nice to me."

Tony gave him a brotherly punch on the shoulder. "All is not lost. You can get her back."

"No…no, I think it's over."

"Probie, Probie, Probie," Tony said, shaking his head, "nothing regarding love is ever really over. Now are you just going to roll over and lose the woman who may be your soul mate?"

Tim thought long and hard about the question which dangled before him; then he answered. "Yes."


	7. Chapter 7

She stepped off the elevator and walked past the bullpen. Tim resisted the urge to sneak a peek; there was no need to remind himself of what he'd lost (not that he'd ever had her to begin with). It was best to just forget about her and move on with his life.

Easier said than done.

"I can't believe she's going out with Palmer," he mumbled bitterly.

"It may have something to do with her friends telling her about his questioning them."

He glared at Ziva. "Yeah, but he was questioning them for me! Why didn't he tell her that?"

The Israeli woman shrugged. "You told him not to under threat of blackmail and he seems to be quite good at following orders."

"And," he continued, not listening to her, "I can't believe that you and Tony made a bet on my love life!"

"Really, Probie?" Tony asked in a disbelieving tone. "You really can't believe that? Don't you know us at all?"

"Okay, okay," Tim conceded, "I _can_ believe it. But that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you guys! Honestly? Placing bets on my ability to get a date? That's as childish as…as…"

"As getting a friend to dig up info on your crush rather than talking to her yourself?" Ziva suggested with a smug grin.

"She's got you there, McGee."

"It was _your_ idea, Tony!"

"Yes, but it was _your_ idea to go along with my idea."

The young agent groaned, rubbing his temples gently with his fingers. "I should have just listened to Ziva!" he proclaimed.

"Not that I do not agree with you, McGee," the woman said, "but I do not think you are really angry at us right now, and you know it."

Tim sighed. It was true. He wasn't angry with Tony and Ziva. Sure they'd made a bet regarding him and Caroline, but he couldn't deny that he would have done the same thing if the circumstances were reversed; and even though things hadn't worked out the way he'd hoped, he knew that Tony was really just trying to help in his own DiNozzo way. So no, he wasn't mad at them. He wasn't really mad at Jimmy, either (jealous, maybe, but not mad); he was frustrated with his himself, questioning why Caroline had given him such a cold shoulder. What had set her off? He mentally reviewed the harsh words she had spat at him the week before:

…_I really don't care how much money you've got or what club you can get into… _

…_Maybe in your smug little mind 'no' means 'yes,' but here in the real world, 'no' means 'no.'… _

…_Now I know that must come as a huge blow to your even huger ego, but it's about time you learn that not every woman is going to swoon over you just because you've got money and a Porsche. Not all of us are so easily bought off…_

He frowned. Obviously, she had not been impressed by his show of money and recognition. Maybe he _had_ laid it on a bit thick; maybe he _had_ come off a little arrogant. He could see now why she might get annoyed with him. He should have trusted his own instincts and kept things simple.

"Holiday gift exchange, guys!" announced Lara, Director Vance's new secretary, as she weaved past their desks. In her hand was a bowl filled with folded pieces of paper, each bearing the name of an NCIS employee. "You know the rules," she said as Tony dipped in his hand. "No telling who you've got, bring a gift to the agency party next week, and keep it within a twenty dollar price range."

Tim glumly reached in and grabbed one before Lara walked off. He opened it and felt the wind get knocked from him. Of all the rotten luck in the world.

"I got Caroline!" he lamented with a frown.

"Ha!" Tony gleamed. "I got Agent Eichorn!"

"Did you two miss when she said not to tell anyone who you got?" Ziva asked as she looked back and forth between the two men. "Because I do believe that was one of the rules."

"Trade with me, Tony," Tim pleaded.

"No can do, buddy. Agent Eichorn is too good a pick to pass up."

"Ziva?" he asked, hoping to look appropriately pathetic so as to win her sympathy.

No such luck. "McGee, you will need to face her eventually. Perhaps you could use this to win her favor."

"Oooh, yes!" Tony agreed. "Get her something nice. Women like jewelry, right Ziva?"

"Too formal and over the twenty dollar limit," she dismissed. "Jewelry from a long-time boyfriend is wonderful; jewelry from a co-worker, however, is awkward. Besides, she seems annoyed by McGee's flaunting his money, so I do not think it would be very appreciated."

"Then what do you suggest, Ziva?"

"Something special that has meaning."

"Maybe a dartboard with my picture glued on it?" Tim suggested sardonically.

She gave him a look. "You will not get anywhere with that attitude, McGee. Now think of something. What things does she like? Certainly you must have noticed something in the time you spent stalk…erm…_observing_ her."

He rested his chin in his arms as he thought. "Well…she seems to like crossword puzzles."

"Okay," Ziva said with a small smile. "Not the most romantic of ideas, but a start."

"You could make your own crossword puzzle that has to do with you," Tony said.

Tim shot it down with a single glance. "I'm not ten, Tony, and this isn't for my mom. Not that it matters," he added pessimistically. "I could give her the greatest gift in the world and she wouldn't care. She hates me and nothing's going to change that."

Ziva narrowed her eyes on him. "She does not hate you, McGee, and I am growing tired of your whining. Now, do you like this woman?"

"Very much."

"Do you still want her?"

"You know I do."

"Then stop sitting around groping and do something about it! Change her opinion of you! Show her that she is missing out by not taking you up on your offer."

"And how do I do that when she doesn't want to hear a word I say?"

"By being yourself and showing her the real you."

He shook his head. "Thank you for your advice, but I just don't see this working. I missed my chance and now I just have to deal with that." He shoved the slip of paper with Caroline's name into his pocket. "I think I'll go down and see how Abby's doing. I could go for a Caf-Pow right now and she usually has a few sitting in her cooler."

Ziva watched with worry as Tim slumped off. It was obvious that he still wasn't over Caroline and wouldn't be any time soon. Somehow, the woman had plucked at his heart strings like an expert harpist and had left a lasting impression on him. Ziva couldn't stand to see him so sad, especially during the holidays. Also, she felt the slightest twinge of guilt over her bet with Tony.

"We are going to help him," she said firmly to Tony.

If she was expecting an argument from him, she wasn't going to get it. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, "I know we are."


	8. Chapter 8

Outside, the night sky was dark, but dotted with the white flurries of snow which blew about in a blizzard-like fashion. The Christmas season was in full swing with wreathes, lights, and trees set up in almost every nook and cranny. Inside of NCIS, the agency smelled of cinnamon, egg nog, and candy canes. A holiday song drifted softly through the speakers, but it was overpowered by the talking, laughing, and drunken singing. In the corner was a Christmas tree decorated with homemade decorations, courtesy of the children who had received gifts from their Toys for Tots drive the year before. Beneath the tree were beautifully wrapped gifts (and a few sloppily wrapped ones, in the case of those who had opted to try and wrap their gift themselves) for the agency gift exchange. The office was decked out in the cheesiest and tackiest decorations money could buy. One of the employees—likely Tony, but no one knew for certain—had hung mistletoe sporadically around the building, catching some people by awkward surprise.

"So explain the whole mistletoe thing to me once more," Ziva said as she stood with the team in one corner of the party.

"If two people are under the mistletoe at the same time, they have to kiss," Abby told her.

"Why?"

"Because," Tony said emphatically, "those are the rules of Christmas! Everybody knows that!"

"What if two men end up under there?"

"Well, then obviously it doesn't count."

"Even if they are gay?"

"…If they're gay then I guess then they _would_ kiss."

"What about one gay man and one straight man?" she continued. "Or what about if three people happen to be under one?"

"Yeah, okay, can you forget the mistletoe? Geez, it's like talking to a child."

"Oh, forgive me, Tony, if I do not understand all of the traditions of Christmas," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "I am sure you are an expert on Hanukkah, though, yes?"

Tim sauntered up to the group, hands firmly in his pockets. He still hadn't brightened up since getting rejected by Caroline. It didn't affect his work, but anyone who knew him could sense and obvious change in his demeanor.

"Hey," he greeted with a tight-lipped smile. "Merry Christmas, guys. And Happy Hanukkah, Ziva."

Abby engulfed the man in a constricting hug. "Merry Christmas, Timmy! Oh, I love Christmas! It's so…Christmasy!"

"Yes," he said as he disentangled himself from her smothering grip, "that's a very good adjective for it. And let me say now, thank you for the gift."

"What gift?" she asked with feigned innocence.

"The one you got for me in the gift exchange."

"Darn it!" she exclaimed, stomping her platform boot in anger. "How does everyone always know it's me?"

"Well, you signed it 'To: Timmy,' and no one else calls me that."

"And," Tony added, "the skulls with Santa hats wrapping paper is something of a dead giveaway."

"Speaking of dead giveaways," she replied, "I'm guessing your gift is the one that smells like expensive cologne?"

Before he could reply, a shrill whistle split through the air. Lara had taken a place atop a chair so she could be seen by everyone and was beckoning the crowd closer. "Okay, guys! It's time for the gift exchange. Everyone can grab the gift brought for them. See if you can figure out your gift-giver without them telling you."

"McSherlock here's already done that," Tony quipped as everyone gathered around the tree.

Abby gave Tim a kiss on the cheek, leaving behind a cherry-red lip imprint. "Well, I hope you like it, McGee."

"I'm sure I will," he said half-heartedly as he started tearing off the paper. He caught sight of Caroline plucking out his gift for her from the pile beneath the tree. She was wearing a dark green, short-sleeved turtleneck dress, and had, in a burst of holiday spirit, pinned a sprig of holly into her hair, holding her curls back from her face.

Feeling someone's eyes on her, Caroline looked up and momentarily caught Tim's eyes. He averted his gaze before turning his back to her. He focused on the yet-to-be unwrapped gift to occupy his mind. One last tug of the wrapping paper revealed a book about the evolution of _Spiderman_, including the very first issue and an interview with Stan Lee. It made the comic book geek inside of him do a joyful cartwheel.

"I always thought Peter Parker was one of the sexier comic book guys."

The voice that came from behind him was soft, but it still made Tim jump. He turned to see Caroline standing there, holding her still wrapped gift against her chest. "Something about the geeky guy turned superhero is really attractive."

"Yeah," he said awkwardly. He wasn't sure how to respond. Two weeks ago this woman had angrily chewed him out; now she was standing shyly before him, talking to him about comic books as thought nothing had happened. "Yeah, _Spiderman_ is one of the best superheroes."

The corner of her mouth twitched up into a half-smile. "You don't need to look at me as though you're terrified."

"I just want to be prepared if you spit fire at me again."

This time it was Caroline who averted her gaze. "I guess I did go a bit overboard."

Seeing her so sweet and innocent made Tim's heart melt all over again. "To be fair, I did too. Looking back at the way I acted, I'm not surprised that I came off sounding a bit conceited."

"Oh, it was more than a bit."

He nodded. "I was trying to impress you."

"By talking about your money and your car and all of that?" she asked, eyebrows raised high. "That's not really the way to impress me."

"I see that now," he told her sheepishly. "Sorry for acting like an ass."

"I forgive you."

Tim smiled. "Yeah?"

She returned the grin. "Yeah. You're kind of cute when you're being contrite. Besides, I owe you an apology, too. Even if you were acting like an ass, I was much harsher than I needed to be. It's just that I dated this guy once who _was_ like that. I mean, he came from a rich family and was always showing off his car and his ability to get whatever he wanted. At first it was kind of fun," she admitted, "but once the thrill of it wore off I realized what a tool he really was. He was self-centered, couldn't really love anyone but himself, and thought he was just so perfect that no woman could ever resist his charms. Sadly, many of them couldn't," she added with a sour face. "So after I broke up with him I decided that I wouldn't get involved with guys who were like that."

"Well, I'm glad you're giving me a second chance," he told her sincerely. "I probably wouldn't have given me a second chance."

"I wasn't going to at first," she confessed. "But your friends told me everything."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Everything?" he inquired.

"About that idiotic list of steps and all of that." She scrunched up her nose as she let out a soft chortle. "Now that I think about it, I think it's kind of sweet. Stupid, but sweet."

"I know it was stupid," he groaned as he leaned back against the wall. "I just…I was so tongue-tied around you and couldn't figure out the best way to ask you out."

"You could have just walked up to me and asked me to go out."

He laughed. "Yes, but you forget that I'm an insecure guy who gets nervous around beautiful women."

She responded with laughter, causing her nose to scrunch up once again.

"I love that, you know."

"Love what?"

"When you laugh and your nose wrinkles up like that. It's so cute."

Caroline blushed, ducking her head down bashfully. "So, uh, your friend, Tony, told me that you got my name in the gift exchange," she said, holding up the gift.

"Yeah, it's nothing that great," he told her. "I mean I thought you'd like it, but it's nothing fancy."

"Oh, so it's not the keys to a fancy new Porsche or a fourteen carat ring?" she asked teasingly as she tore away the paper. With the wrapping paper gone, she found the box for a jigsaw puzzle.

"I noticed that you do a lot of crossword puzzles and I found this jigsaw puzzle that you put together and it becomes a crossword puzzle that you can do. I just thought you might like it. I know it's kind of hokey."

"No," she said. "No, it's sweet and I know I'll like it. Thank you." She pushed herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck in a short hug. "If I may be so forward, are you doing anything New Years Eve?"

"I can't think of anything. Would you like to do something that night?"

She pursed her lips pensively; then her eyes caught sight of something. "Well, why wait _that_ long?" she asked as she pulled him to a doorway over which a bit of mistletoe hand been hung.

Ziva and Tony watched on the sidelines, satisfied with the results of their recovery mission. They had both spoken with Caroline, telling her that the Tim who had been wooing her for the past two weeks wasn't the real Tim and that she should take the time to get to know the real him before writing him off all together.

"You know," Tony whispered, "considering the circumstances and the fact that we agreed the bet was a bad idea, maybe we should just forget the entire thing."

"I expect that seventy dollars by next Monday, Tony. Oh, and I've got a nice pile of paperwork that has your name on it."

He groaned but didn't argue it; he knew better than to try and pull one over on Ziva, and she was eying that sharp-edged Christmas tree star a bit too eagerly for his taste. "You'll get it," he mumbled.

"So McGee has gotten his Christmas wish; what about you? Are you still hoping for Santa to bring you the pretty Swiss girl?"

Tony grimaced. "I was…until she introduced me to her body builder husband. He didn't seem to appreciate me eying his wife."

"What a shock," Ziva said sarcastically. "Well, do not worry. Be a good little boy and I am sure Santa will bring you a very nice Christmas present."

As she said it, Agent Eichorn—Tony's gift exchange recipient—passed by them, giving Tony a sly wink. He handed his drink off to Ziva, whispering, "It looks like he already has," before trailing off behind the attractive woman.

Meanwhile on the other end of the room, another budding couple was shyly standing beneath the mistletoe-adorned doorway, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Just as Caroline leaned up to kiss him, Tim placed his hands on her shoulders, stopping her. "Wait," he said as his heart pounded with violent anticipation, "aren't you dating Palmer?"

"We only went on one date. Jimmy's sweet and all, but I just don't see it working," she explained. Caroline leaned up once again, stopping right before her lips touched his. "May I continue this time?"

Tim answered by cupping her cheeks, gently leaning in, and pressing his lips against hers. He could taste the sweet raspberry flavoring of her lip gloss and he reveled in the delicious taste. His hands worked their way from her soft cheeks to the mess of curls atop her head; they were as silky as he'd imagined them to be.

She pulled back after a few moments and their lips peeled apart with a smuckering sound. "I hope you don't mind," she said as she rubbed her thumb against his cheek, "if I get rid of this other woman's lipstick mark."

He blushed, having forgotten about Abby's lipstick imprint.

Caroline pulled her thumb away, leaving Tim's cheek stained with a red smudge, but free of the lipstick. "Much better." She leaned up once again, whispering, "Merry Christmas, Timothy."

* * *

**AN:** Thus ends the story! Thank you all for reading!


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